


Even Kittens Have Claws

by NeedsSleepAndClosure650



Category: Marvel, Wolverine (Comics), Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Flirting, Clara is a goddess, Eating Disorders, Eating is difficult ok?, F/F, F/F mentioned in passing, F/M, Feral Behavior, He’s kinda chaotic tho, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, Logan is kinda a jerk, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Victor gets attached, Victor has a great bullshit detector, Will get violent, bad language, ”Im sorry wtf?” @Clara at Victor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27844930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeedsSleepAndClosure650/pseuds/NeedsSleepAndClosure650
Summary: Olivia didn’t need anything else to stress her out, but here she is. When her powers were unleashed on her army troop, William Stryker offered her a job, a second chance. He just forgot to mention a certain feral a little too shrouded in myth for her liking. So, when flair ups, and the ugly truth of the world hits her, she doesn’t handle it as well as she could.Can ya blame her?(This is my first work, so I would love any type of feedback!)
Relationships: Sabretooth/Original Female Character(s), Victor Creed/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. We’re Gonna Need Better Fences For This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia meets the team. She has a few... less than extrordanary first impresssions.

“Everyone, this is the new recruit, Olivia Baylor. She’s our new sharpshooter.” The girl nodded, day-old eyeliner softly smudged, scanning the room. Her gaze lingered over himself and Jimmy, and something in Victor had him sitting up under a scrap of a girl’s gaze. Her eyes held a trace of gold in them, he realized, before a soft smile crossed her face before her eyes flickered to Dukes. 

He could have growled then, he realized dimly. His animal thrashed behind its box, desperate for something it couldn't name, almost frustrated, but he locked it back up. No use in scaring the new chick just yet.

“So, Miss Baylor, what exactly do you do?” 

“You’re terribly confident, aren’t you?” The recruit was tiny, but by god did she have sass in her. She couldn't have been 5’5, but she was wearing heels like it would make a difference against any of— 

It was the first damn thing she said when the boss introduced her to the team. The runt chuckled, not particularly mad, just amused

“Well, these-” His claws had an almost grotesque squelching sound as they left his hand, “Certainly help.” Olivia smiled, amused, before pursing her strawberry red lips, and tilting her head.

“Kinky.” Zero choked back a laugh and buried his face in his hands. 

“No, seriously, what's your deal?” John snickered, teleporting softly behind her, and she curled up her top lip at the smell. Victor began to chuckle, before being hit with a startling idea.

Only ferals could smell the sulfur from teleporters. One thought consumed his mind, in that moment, it was one of sheer, unrelenting—

“Boo!” John yelled behind her. To her credit, she didn't startle, jump, or flinch, but she did start to smell panicked like she was trapped. She started to get a desperate look in her eyes, like a caged animal.

“Ok, so what do you people do anyway?” Her voice was tight, controlled, but otherwise, she seemed relaxed. Jimmy spoke up, but she kept glancing at Victor as his brother spoke. Her eyes couldn’t stay in one place, except when staring at him, so he drank his beer, and let her figure herself out.

“John teleports, Me and Vic got claws, Bradley’s a technician, Wade, and Zero stab things, and Dukes can't get shot.” She stared at him for a minute, before rolling her eyes. An annoyed huff and she ran her fingers through her dark hair and leaned to the door.

“Thanks for the lowdown, big guy. Don’t touch my stuff, and we’ll get along fine.” As her heels clicked down the hall, Runt stared at him, then sighed.

“That chick is gonna get herself killed with that attitude.”

“Yeah, but I bet she’ll tear someone’s throat out first, ‘Nd I wanna see that.” Something in Victor said he’d be the one dead before she needed to defend herself, but he locked it deep.

At first, she was everywhere. Jimmy had complained that she drank his beer, and she rolled her eyes. Her scent spiked, the acidic smell of confusion, and panic. She seemed to have that one a lot.

“As if I’d touch that junk. If I wanna get drunk, I'm going for the whisky, not cheap ass beer. ‘sides, good fences make good neighbors.”

“The hell does that mean?” Jimmy snapped, letting the bottle shatter in the trash can. She flinched at the sound of every single shard of glass hitting the bottom of the plastic can.

“You don't touch my stuff, and I don't touch yours, and we’ll get along fine.”

She had also found his favorite perch. Victor had found the long, uncovered steel beam when his animal was annoyed without territory. And with all the team bonding Stryker wanted, he needed space.  
—I swear, one more game of go fish and I’m gonna lose it—

As he neared the place, he saw a figure there, laying on the beam, fast asleep. At first, he thought it was his brother, but whoever it was was too small. Even though a t-shirt, and a heavy blanket, he could see a few ribs. 

Gently approaching, careful not to rock the beam, he took a deep breath, smelling sheer bliss, along with something sweet. To his surprise, it was the new recruit. He gently sat down, glancing at her face. As much as he wanted space to himself, his animal didn't seem to mind. He didn't give it much thought. Instinct had never failed him.

Her signature red lipstick hadn’t faded, if not a little thin, but her hair was in a low ponytail. The gentle rhythm of her breathing was relaxed but also exhausted. She must have stolen one of his shirts because she had a dark green shirt balled up, and tucked up to her nose. Her normally rigid posture was abandoned, curled in a fetal position on the beam, and her stomach had a bit of softness to it, like she had cramps, or was nursing a bellyache. She had some blood on her nose and chin, but it had been wiped away. 

Without thinking, he traced a claw over her wrist, finding lines of warm, just healed skin. She twitched, her eyes fluttering open, before falling closed.

They sat like that for a minute, before his animal started talking.

-feed her-

He shook his head, enjoying the feeling over her hair over his fingers. His claws ran through the tangles in her hair, almost purring at the feeling

-too small. feed her-

He growled low, and annoyed, before cutting short when his claws began to extend on instinct. Olivia made a low whine, before shoving the shirt into her face. That's when he smelled the blood. It wasn’t the flowing kind, but he wasn’t too worried. He used to have a sister, anyway. 

-mate is too small. feed her. too weak to bealonetoosmallprotecthertoo- He drowned it out with the deep, rhythmic sound of Olivia’s breathing, and the dull thud of her heart.

She woke up about an hour later. He had closed his eyes when he noticed her waking up, too relaxed to hide. She sat up, then stared at him for a minute. He tilted his head down when he heard her stand, and she scampered off.

She didn’t show up to dinner that day, claiming to have reports to do. Jimmy went looking for her, only to come back confused. He figured she was getting her bearings, was probably embarrassed at being caught napping. The animal in him wasn’t happy without her right there”, but he didn’t care. He did, he just couldn’t barge into her space without an invitation. She would be so—

It had been 4 hours past lights out, and Victor was still awake. —For no reason, just his luck— He was caged up, and curious. Runt told him to go back to bed.

“You know, curiosity killed the cat.” The closed-door was all that answered him. He thought that a workout might help, let himself loose for a minute. When Victor went to get the heavy bag in the gym, the smell of Baylor’s anger, and panic, fear, and hate almost made him gag with the intensity. But, when he found something else, he almost lost it right there.

Fred Dukes had his head slammed into the bag, repeatedly. Drops of his blood splattered over the bottom, and hair was stuck in claw marks that were too thin to be his or his brothers. The kitten even had claws—

There wasn't enough of Duke's blood that she got away without a scratch, and he was too wound up to leave it alone. 

—kill the threat— His claws came out all of their own accords, but he couldn't find the girl looking like a —Mate will like the claws. make her feel safe— He stopped dead in his tracks, before shaking his head, and sighing. 

Sometimes, his animal got attached to something that didn’t know it even existed. The poor girl’s gonna piss herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who took the time to check this out. It’s my first work, so I’d love feedback of any sort. Again, thank you!


	2. Cats and Guns Don’t Mix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first mission has a few more twists the anyone would have liked. Thank god for healing factors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To: Ember_Moon, Kazoozoo, and Smokerxmnm15
> 
> Thank you so much for the support! I hope you enjoy!

Missions are always a bore, but they pay too well to miss. On top of that, it’s hilarious how incompetent they are. Anyway, Victor still hasn't found what Dukes did to get his head bashed in. He and Jimmy had a bet going over it. Whoever was right about what happened, got to handle it how they wanted. Jimmy said that Dukes had tried something with her, but he had a diffrent theory.

“And sometimes, we have kitty cat make people’s heads pop off.” Wade continued to ramble, waving his sword in Baylor’s face. She had had trouble finding the hanger, so she ended up sitting between himself and Jimmy. She was clearly uncomfortable, glancing past Jimmy towards Fred, and shifting in her seat. If he so much as looks at her, I’ll—

“Weird idea, Mr. Wilson. If I shove a frog grenade down your throat, will you choke, or explode?” 

Victor chuckled, then gently pulled his grenade out of her hand, and clipped it back onto his belt. Then, he handed her a small utility knife. 

“You’ll take yourself out with a grenade. Try this.” She smiled, these tiny fangs, longer than her buck teeth, poked out. 

—God she’s so— Wade brought the blade down slowly and wrapped a strand of Olivia’s silky hair around the edge. Victor’s train of thought cut off with anger when he pulled down, tugging her hair. The soft locks frayed against the edge, but before he could react, she shot Wade a look, and he put the blade away. He let his claws out, staring Wade dead in the eye. Wade seemed to have some sense of self preservation, putting the sword to the side. 

“Well, glaring isn’t as intimidating as a gun, or bone claws, or the fingernails of a bag lady, so…. what’s your sell?”

“My sell?” 

“Yeah! Like, why’d ya get hired for our merry band of misfits?” She leaned forward, smirking.

“I can’t die.”

The plane went quiet for a minute before anyone responded. It was a common answer from mutants. They always seemed to assume they couldn't die because they had a fancy power.

“Really?” Zero mocked, rolling his eyes. Olivia must not have liked that, because she reared her hand back to her neck, and jerked it to the side.

A sickening snap rang through the plane’s cabin, and she sighed, before leaning back onto the hull of the plane. 

The runt watched her in shock. She made an odd sound between a groan and a moan, before hissing. It sounded almost relaxed, and Victor couldn’t see how it was relaxing. Just killed herself for god’s sake— She rolled her head towards Jimmy, mumbling.

“That hurt! Why did I do that?” He chuckled before responding.

“Probably ‘cause you’re stupid.” She cracked her neck, before frowning at his brother. Her hair jerked at the motion, the thin strands hardly two inch from his face. 

The plane lulled into silence before Stryker muttered something to Bradley. The plane began to descend, and Jimmy groaned. Olivia was boring a hole straight into the ceiling, eyes wide open. Her hands were gripping into his sleeves. Victor’s focus was pinned to Olivia’s tiny, needle-sharp claws, that just barely pricked his skin, but it was enough.

“Do you need a bucket?” John asked, before tipping his dumb@$$ cowboy hat.

“If we were meant to fly, we’d grow wings.” Jimmy grunted

“I’m not worried about you. I’m talking to Baylor.” She choked on a growl in her throat, before gripping down harder on his arm, now grabbing the meat of his arm.

“I, in fact, would love one. I, also, hate these GODFORSAKEN contraptions. How the fuck did someone talk me into getting into one of these, I swear.” Some good natured chuckling rang through the cabin, before Olivia got a plastic bag. Victor, without thinking, began to rub at a spot on her side. At first, she glanced at his face, before relaxing.

When the plane landed, they all loaded out. It took a minute to get everyone on the way.

“I know he’s supposed to be a tank, but does her have to be as slow as one?” 

Dukes made a comment on her lack of weaponry after that. Victor watched from the rooftop, his feet rooted in place. Last time there was in team fighting, he had to knock Zero out. At first, she huffed, before realizing Dukes was serious. 

“Oh… You think I beat your ass yesterday with the sheer force of rage? Oh no…” She smiled, shaking her head, before pulling a filet knife out of her sleeve. An almost inhuman glint in her eyes, more relaxed than what he would do. She hooked the pronged tip of the knife on something he couldn't see in front of her, before pulling back. They watched an AK-45 appear out of thin air, dropping softly into her hollister. Her self-satisfied smirk, and high ponytail almost made her look like a professional.

—that’s hot—

*For once, I completely agree*

“Abiotic Pocketing.” Stryker spoke up, “Miss Baylor can move anything non living into the quantum realm, or remove it. Along with a feeling factor, it’s quite remarkable, really.” She smiled, her scent radiating a pride he had never seen on anyone else. If someone made a candle out of that—

“Are we gonna go? Or nah.” Olivia walked up to the wall he had scaled, eyeing it. At first, he thought she was gonna climb up to him. He looked down, giving her a tight smile, just to tick her off. She rolled her eyes, giving a small smirk, before opening a panel in the wall.

—mate is so smart—

“What’s the passcode?” Jimmy asked, throwing an arm around her shoulder. She looked straight up at him, before mouthing ‘this guy?’ She pulled the pronged knife up, and dug it behind the panel, before frowning. 

“It’s oiled. Too fresh to manipulate. Can you use the claws?” Jimmy rolled his eyes, and slammed his fist into the panel. She flinched back at the crack. Sticking her tongue out, she disappeared into the building.

Victor could feel a chill go through him, as soon as she left his sight. He decided to ignore it, seeing the trees move, and continued on.

***

Victor had a different assignment then his brother. He was supposed to find where the diamond company kept their files. 

Now, that’s not to say he didn’t grab other things, but it wasn’t his main task. 

So, with a coat pocket of cut diamonds, he was leafing through the shipment files when he heard a loud snarl. It might of been a hiss, but it was loud, and crazy angry. In his shock, he stopped thumbing the papers. When he looked down, the name PUMA was block lettered in his face. He shifted the papers, noticing the octopus stamp on the side.

What he saw was a grainy picture, a few basic stats.

The picture was of a normally built woman, with some baby fat on her cheeks, but dead pale, in a hospital gown and hair net. She was asleep on the bed, with a hand propped behind her head. On the bottom of the picture was the sentence, NO MORE CYSTS! He chucked at the shaky handwriting, before noticing an odd detail. 

Her eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling. Bright blue eyes. The blue that you think is definitely a color contact, but it wasn’t. Her hair was long, visibly full, and clean. The thin scarring on her abdomen wasn’t infected, or red. It was almost completely healed. The timestamp was a few minutes after the doctors stepped away. He noted the conflicting information, before reading.

Alias: Puma

Mutation: Healing Factor, Claws, Feral Instincts (high)

Name: Olivia Baylor

Weight: 98 LBS (After Surgery)

Height: 5’3

Recovery Time Post Rigor-Mortem: 2 minutes, 19 seconds

Payment for protection: $800,000 US Dollars

—too small! died!—

He snarled reading the numbers, before shoving the folder into his jacket. He took a deep breath, through his mouth, before groaning. He grabbed the shipping file, before getting in the elevator, and going down a level.

Olivia turned as the door opened. When he stepped out, she tensed, before looking back at the man in charge. 

Someone had already started on him, he observed. A black eye, and bloody nose paled when he saw the man’s mangled hand. The marks on his forearm were smaller, like scalpels. 

“Don’t give me that look, you little shit.” She snapped at Logan. He glared at her, then huffed.

“She mauled him, and he refused to talk.” He rolled his eyes, then walked up to the desk. The smell of urine almost overwrote the smell of Olivia’s anger, but Styker pulled him out of his thoughts before he could get anything else.

“Victor? Do you know how to persuade him?” He gave his boss a look, before turning around. He gave Olivia a glance, before gesturing with his hand. She understood, and cautiously stepped to his side. He grabbed her hand, before resting it against the man's unharmed other hand, then ran his hand up her arm, keeping her arm steady. He leaned down to her, feeling tension in the room rise quickly. Then he spoke, trying to keep his voice as even, and calm as he could with the smell of her confusion rising.

“If ya let your claws out a little, ya could get the nail beds. No more blood, but lots of nerves. Whadda ya think?” She couldn't move her head without knocking into his face, but the heat of his breath brushed her ear. He thought he smelled something, but quickly dismissed the idea. 

“Seems right after what he did, huh?” Her hand began to shake, before her thin claws shot at. The man writhed, but she held still. Victor backed away, stepping to the side. Baylor didn't move, stone still. If she slid her arm up half an inch, and pulled— 

“I’ll talk!” He finally spat out. She rolled her eyes, then chuckled.

“Then start.” 

“It’s a three day bus ride inland! That’s all I know!” He sputtered. Olivia waited, still, before rolling her eyes. Suddenly, she let go of the man, and crossed her arms over her chest. He gasped her air, before saying another word.

“Bitch.”

“Duh? Did you expect something different?” She grabbed a bag of gems he had offered Styker, and walked back towards the side of the room. She could probably purr, with that happy smile on her face. Like a kitten with the cream—

Suddenly, a gun went off, and Olivia hissed, the smile dropping off, in a tight lipped snarl. A lone guard pointed the gun at Logan next. 

“I’ll shoot! I will.” He stepped over Olivia’s fallen body, kicking her roughly in the ribs. Logan’s claws shoot out, and John took aim. Victor took a step forward, fully intending to pull his heart out of his chest in retaliation. Then, they all heard something that sounded like an angry wolf. The sound rose, filling the room of stunned soldiers, and continued to get louder. Victor took advantage of the distraction, grabbing the man's throat.

Suddenly, the man had ten long, thin spikes in his chest. Victor wasn’t even scratched, but stepped to the side. When the guard fell face first, Olivia stood up, retreating the long spikes into her nails. 

—that was hot. Reckless, but hot—

They all stood, the speed of her attack shocking the brothers. She smiled, pride radiating off of her. 

“What? I told you I couldn’t die.” Then, with the swing of her ponytail, she walked out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Good news! While procrastanating, I got the next 3 weeks of chapters done. This one is a little longer than others, but I didn’t want to leave y’all hanging. Please comment. I don’t want to be spewing nonsense if I can help it.


	3. A Bus, A Phone, And Clara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Car trips are never fun.

The busride was horrid. The entire team had gotten crammed into the same vehicle, and they didn’t stop except for energy drinks to keep Bradley from falling asleep. 

Olivia had accepted it better than anyone. 

“I appreciate the commitment, Miss Baylor, but these boys are highly vulgar in close quarters.” She had rolled her eyes, and waved a book in his face.

Victor had brought a small radio with a headphone jack, not intending to use it unless someone snored. However, when Fred and Zero had started loudly gossiping about their girlfriends, he had slid the headphones over her ears.

—no need to scare the mate before it’s time— 

She had given him a blinding smile, and returned to her book. The faint smell of blood was in the room as always, but he ignored it. 

At their first stop, they reloaded the gas, and John teleported back to base to get the sugary drinks. Olivia stretched her legs out, and stepped outside.

Then, he smelled her blood. It was thick in the air, but she wasn’t panicking. After a minute she came back, sliding into the window seat.

He thought for a moment, then leaned over to her. His face was a few inches from hers, and that imposible smell wafted through the bus. When she didn't respond, or look up, he slid the headphones onto her, and left the bus. 

He strode through the woods, before pulling his phone out. He was put to voicemail at first, and tapped his claws against the back of the phone.

—need to get the mate home to the girls—

“I’m sorry. Do you have any idea what time it is?” His sister snapped.

“Morning.”

“What do you want?” Someone else groaned on the other end of the line.

“Just checkin’ on ya. How many kegs did your girlfriend go through?”

“Shut it, Victor. And keep it in your pants.”

“Yeah yeah. Thought you’d like to know about the new chick on the team.” Someone chuckled on the other end of the line, before Clara answered.

“Thank the lord! My big brother finally got himself a lady.”

“Working on it. How ya been?”

“Girls LOVE food, Vic. Get her food. Get her all the food. Now, go get some! Call me after the job.”

“Yes Ma’am. Bye Clara.” 

“Oh zip it.” She hung up, and he smiled. He heard someone walk up behind him, not getting too close.

“Creed. We’re leavin.” Zero snapped. Victor rolled his eyes, and trod back to the bus. 

Olivia had pulled the book up in her face, and turned the music up. When she smelled him, a few rows in front of her, she moved so he had room. As he sat down, she relaxed even more. His teammates jabbered, Jimmy occasionally interjecting, but all was fairly calm. 

As the sun grew low, Olivia put the book in her duffel, and curled up. A scarf was tried over her eyes, to keep light out. Her knees were in between her arms, and she had the pronged knife between her hands. Instinct told him what to do with the drowsy woman.

He pulled her against his side, trying not to jostle her, and she let go of the knife. He carefully tucked it into her waistband, and let her legs swing over the side. 

The bus had grown quiet, but she was still alert. Amped up from the fighting. So, he pulled his jacket over her. Her hands bunched up the collar under her nose. 

She was asleep in minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have 4 questions for anyone reading this.  
> 1\. What character needs more action?  
> 2\. Who would be a good cameo for this story?  
> 3\. What character needs less action?  
> 4\. How do I italizise on AO3?
> 
> If y’all could comment your answers, or PM me, it would be a huge help. 
> 
> I might have another chapter soon, so keep an eye out. My Midterms are almost done for the week, and I’ve been itching to get some words in.


	4. That Wasn’t Supposed To Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia is too jumpy for her own good, and Victor’s bullshit detector is working hard.
> 
> TW: Mentioned Rape, Blood, Dismemberment, Calorie Counting

When they finally arrived, Olivia was sure Victor wanted to kill her.

For one, she had fallen asleep on top of the guy. She didn't even know what happened. She had curled up, and woken up with her head on his arm. She had apologized in a very low tone, trying not to make the man angry, but he seemed to bunch up his face, and frown.

Then, he had offered her a breakfast bar. She had refused, although politely. That dang thing was 600 kcal by itself. He hadn’t spoken a word the rest of the ride. After that, Bradley had enough nervous energy to get them to the village in a day. 

They loaded off, trudging into the woods. She had stayed by his brother, the calmer of the two. Victor probably wouldn’t kill her in front of him. That was, until Logan had flashed the bone claws at her. So, she stayed back. 

Victor was in the rear, watching the team. He seemed to do that a lot. 

The man must have been cut out of marble, or steel. Even in the thick clothes he wore, she could still see the lines of muscle. A devilishly handsome face, and those long fangs had her almost too intimidated by the man to talk. He seemed like the type her friends from school would hate the needy, innocent, pure Olivia to talk to. Would probably claim they didn't want to see her cry, while screwing him behind her back. Thankfully, she learned fast.

Olivia nad never met another feral until she joined the team. Mom said that most of them were everything bad. Greedy, hateful, insatiable, vicious. Every time the young girl had asked why, Momma always had the same answer. 

“You’re father was.”

Said that's why she always had to take the pills, and hide her claws. Mom said that the boys only wanted one thing, and the girls were too scared to deny them. 

Maybe not scared, Olivia mused.

Then, he stared at her with those damn amber eyes, and she had been caught. The realization froze her in place. Every instinct in her screamed. To run. To stay. To hide. To cower down. It was just too much.

He caught up with her, and wrapped an arm around her back, bringing her with him as he followed their hired tracker into the village. Not like either of the pair needed it. The pain, and panic, and fear made the place stink. 

His grip was gentle, even with the power he held. He barely applied pressure, just enough to keep her there. Just enough for her to be close to him, but never crossing the line of comfort. As they walked, he scanned the area, looking for something. He kept glancing at his brother, then Dukes. Every step, he would look in a different direction, scanning the tree line.

Then, she smelled it.

Concern. Worry. Suspician This absolute powerhouse of a mutant, that everyone on the team was scared shitless of, was unnerved. The idea was so bizarre she stumbled, held up by his patient hand.

“Sorry. Tree branch.” She muttered, embarrassed. He seemed still worried, but his scent had a number of amusement.

“Happens to the best of us.”

Then, she heard someone scream. It was too loud, and she panicked, breaking the man’s grip, charging into the camp. Guns were going off, making her ears ring, her breathing fast, claws flexing out and back. Someone was running behind her, but her nose was too filled with blood to figure out who. The gore in front of her face had her seeing red. 

Another scream rang out. She followed the sound into a small hut. The tracker had a little girl, no older than nine, on the ground. He was bent over her, his pants on the ground. The little girl ducked behind her, taking advantage of his shock.

Olivia knelt down slowly, her hands shaking with rage as she slid her dog tags over the girl’s neck. Some instinct deep inside her said to protect your own. Who was she to deny it?

She snapped.

It felt like coming home.

Olivia clawed, and bit, and tore, and hit, and kicked, and it felt like home. 

When she paused, panting at the sheer hate that coursed through her veins, the meat of his throat was on the ground in front of her. Her mouth tasted of iron. His chest was pulled open, ribs splintering, the soft organs inside a bloody pulp. His junk was gone, thrown somewhere in the hut. His eyes were gouged out. The walls of the hut were painted red. 

Olivia had never felt more alive in her life.

She sighed, pulled her shirt over her head, and wiped herself off. The blood clung to her scent, but the cocktail of rage and fear and pain was too much. So, she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! 
> 
> If you wanna give me a nice gift, a quick comment would fill me wih holiday cheer.


	5. Orders and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olivia needs a drink.

The lines of villagers on their knees weren't too weird. Wade was trying to talk to the elder in hushed tones, but Styker was impatient. Olivia strode over to Logan, who gave her a hostile look. 

She scanned the crowd, avoiding Victor’s leer. When her eyes fell on the little girl, where she was wrapped in Victor’s coat. Happily munching on a breakfast bar, the little girl waved. 

Her eyes flickered over those assembled. The elder began to panic, stammering.

“He says it came from the sky.” Wade explained.

“Yes, it’s a meteorite. I want the source.” Styker knelt done, and hissed, “Tell him this rock is more valuable than his life.” 

The man stammered, looking between Victor and herself.

“Bast!” He finally yelped, after Stryker pulled a gun. Styker looked at Wade, expecting an answer. Wade shook his head. 

“Panther goddess. Warfare, cats, kids, medicine. What about her?” Olivia asked. They all looked at her, shock flickering over Styker’s face. Wade translated her question to the man, while Styker starred in bewilderment.

“You know the language, Baylor?” She rolled her eyes, and sighed.

“He keeps pointing and saying that name.” Wade finally responded. She began to walk towards them, before coming to rest at Victor’s side. The man looked up at her, but Victor grabbed his neck. He winced back as the feral’s grip tightened, and she heard cracking. 

“Well, he should know better, with that stench.” She snapped, wanting blood. Wade translated, and the man peed himself at the words. The sharp smell of urine filled the air. She looked at Victor’s face for a moment, before walking back towards the people, calling out behind her the man’s fate. 

“Do me a favor, Mr. Creed? Go ahead and get rid of him.” 

The sickening crunch that rang though camp was the last straw. People fled. Victor grabbed someone that ran past him, and Logan stepped in to intervene.

“Let him go. We’re done.”

“Can you even tell what he did?” Victor was snarling. Only way Olivia could describe it was a snarl. They continued to quarrel, and Olivia kept stabbing with her knife. 

She just kept swinging, and the blood kept coming. Everything was blurry until it moved. Logan stopped yelling for a minute, then turned, and walked into the tree line. Victor called after him, and sighed heavily. Then, through all the chaos, a helicopter flew in.

“Baylor!” He yelled, and she glanced up from her target. He pointed at the tree the little girl was tucked under. She rolled her eyes, before he snapped out ‘now’. Something in his voice is a little too sharp, a little too big right now. She rolled her eyes again, walked over, and picked the kid up. 

“Let’s listen to the crazy man. If he does somethin’ too weird, we can watch his face heal back together.” The little girl smiled as Olivia sat under the tree. She slipped her tags off of the girl’s neck, then ruffled her hair. They watched as the team quickly brought the frantic town under control.

“Bring the kid here.” Styker yelled. She stood, holding the kid up with one arm. 

“Go there, bring this here, yada yada yada. Ain’t a ()&( retriever.” Muttering, she put the kid on the ground, where she ran to her mother. The team began to load onto the helicopter, so she followed. 

When she stood, looking at the little cabin, someone pulled her down. She yelped in surprise, face flushing, as she sat directly on top of Victor Creed. He wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her still, and she didn’t dare try to stop him. His claws traced the curve of her pelvis, and she put her knife away.

“Get her in the air Bradley.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone tells me how to italicize on AO3, I’ll put the next chapter up tonight.


	6. TV’s and Phonecalls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stryker learns a valuable lesson

Styker watched his soldiers exit the helicopter with a methodical precision, keeping an eye on the newest recruit. 

She was currently wedged between the wall, and the last remaining feral brother, chuckling at something Wade had said. Victor wrapped an arm around her shoulder, dwarfing the Omega level mutant, before pulling her closer, away from the wall. She didn’t appear to be upset about it, glancing at his face for a moment before replying.

Of course, she was an anomaly. A female feral, almost unheard of in themselves. Rumors in the wind. The only one Stryker had ever heard of was Lady Deathstrike, before he got the call. The military had had another firing squad survivor. She joined up fast, primarily at the promise of immunity for her crimes.

In a remarkable turn of events, she had been protecting a young girl from her superior officer, before she shot him.

Then, her behavior was so unusual, he almost thought it was a fluke. She was soft spoken, she joked with others, she did everything like a human. The ferals he had worked with were always cold, callus, territorial, and hateful. Even the calmer of the brothers, Logan, had been quiet and snappish.

Her healing was slow, but thorough. He had offered her an IV for nutrients, but she refused. Victor must have noticed her size, because he had stolen a bulletproof vest from Zero. He still had the video footage of the fight that insured. 

Of course, there were stories his sources found. Tales of huge ferals killing thousands a day, only to go home and never harm a hair on a woman’s head. Myths of girls being saved from harm without any idea who saved them, only to find fanged devils. It was all fake, but ferals told the story among themselves, so it was worth noting.

That night, he walked in the small kitchen he had installed. Baylor was laid up on the couch, holding a mug that billowed steam. Victor sat beside her, letting her lay against his bare chest, drinking booze. Baylor was wrapped in his jacket, and various different blankets, and was running her shortened claws over his arm. The TV played softly behind the pair, playing an animal documentary. The soft cries of leopard cubs filled the air. 

Victor turned to look at him, but he just retrieved a cup, and made himself a glass of water. The feral relaxed, before looking down at the woman. 

Styker saw the soft sheen of sweat on her brow, and the stutter of her breath. A loud roar sounded from the TV, and he glanced up. It showed two lions coupling, and before it switched to showing cheetahs doing the same thing. The narrator prattled on, explaining how the male would offer food and safety to his mate.

Olivia shifted on the couch, anxious. Victor pulled the jacket around her, and put his head between her neck and collar. He murmured something against the soft skin, and Baylor relaxed, watching baby leopards play in the grass.

When Stryker left, he ordered all the information his contact had feral mates, and behavior. The contact was very confused, but complied.

Victor, however, heard his phone call. The tapping of his claws on the wall near his office was enough. He stayed awake that night, or tried to. His best soldier was inclined to have a violent streak. He must have dozed off, because he woke with five claw marks raked into his desk. His tie was slashed and cut off his neck, and the girl’s file was missing from his office.

His contact sent its findings with one warning. 

Never get between a feral and their mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok y’all! I have the next month or so of chapter written, so updates should be regular. As long as I don’t get sent to treatment.
> 
> And, We are having a vote.
> 
> I have an Idea for a Victor Creed recovery fic with Xavier’s, and a Rogan AU. Please let me know your opinion.
> 
> ALSO! How do I write smut? Like, is there a guide to good lemons somewhere? I would like to write some *sexy* scenes, but have no idea how to.
> 
> Thanks for reeding, and please comment for your vote, or it you have a tip/tactic/friend I could get smut writing advice from.


	7. Bars, Bras, and a Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update! Was still trying to learn how to write smut, and with radio silence from y’all, it was kinda hard. Here’s the plan for this week:
> 
> Outline & Start: VC & Reform fic  
> Finish rough draft of book  
> Post Wednesday on EKHC  
> Outline: Rogan AU
> 
> Please post if you know how to write lemon! I don’t want it to suck.

It would be impossible for this to go well. It’s a bar, and a shy chick that can't hold her drinks. That was obvious, at least to Olivia. She insisted that she had reports to finish, but Creed wouldn’t listen. According to him, the team always went out for drinks, and she was on the team. Therefore, she had to come. When she declined, he ignored it.

“It ain't up for debate. You’re comin’. Besides, you’re gonna want something stronger than beer sometime.”

“I. am NOT going to a bar. Especially not in a sports bra.” 

“Half an hour. If ya arnt on your way in a half hour, I'll come get ya.”

And with that, he left, softly locking the door behind himself. She sighed, before checking her log. She only had 300 calories left, of the 500. She ran a few numbers in her head, and grabbed a deep purple cocktail dress, Adding some eyeshadow, and red lipstick, and she was almost ready to go. She popped some mutation suppressors and threw her phone in a messenger bag purse. Can’t go worse than it already has been.

***

Olivia walked into the bar, with her heels clicking on the old hardwood. The metal of the fighting cage shook as she walked in, and loud yells followed. People’s eyes followed her as she walked, before grabbing Zero’s drink, and taking a sip.

“Hey!” She rolled her eyes at his outburst, and sat it down. Walking over to the cage, she ordered a whiskey on the rocks.

Someone, probably on steroids, was trying to punch a sweaty, shirtless Victor. Victor, however, was toying with the man. They exchanged blows, the smaller man getting knocked around like a rag doll. He seemed to be enjoying himself, with that (&#( smirk. The competitor swung at his face, but he easily blocked. She felt her gut coil up, like a hunger pain.

Victor glanced at her for a moment, before throwing a left uppercut into the man’s jaw. The announcer yelled out, and the unconscious man was carried out. Another competitor jumped in, and a waiter offered Olivia her drink. The next fighter gave Olivia a dirty leer, and the bell rang.

The boys went at it, but Victor was obviously still winning. John teleported to her side, handing her a playing card. The queen of spades sat in her hand, with a phone number painstakingly scribed on the back. 

Abruptly, a pained hiss ran through the air. Olivia looked at the cage, and choked on air. Victor had a fist protectively in front of his throat, before hitting the dude in the kidney. 

John left her alone sometime while she watched. Then, a cold hand lid over her thigh. Olivia felt the chill through her dress, before a slurred voice spoke.

“What’s a little thing like you doing? Tryna see somethin’ worth messing with?” Victor stilled for a minute, before ending the fight with a brutal hit to the man’s rib. The announcer roared, before Victor left the cage. Apparently, there was gonna be a couple of fights to try and find someone to beat him. She rolled her eyes. The very idea—

“Remove your hands, before I remove them.” She let her voice drop into the pitchy, and self assured cantor her mother would use with the bothersome toddlers that ran around the school. The man slipped a hunting knife under her dress, dangerously close to her privates, before he was roughly yanked away. A loud gasp rang out, as the man scampered away.

“Ya alright?” Victor asked her, before plucking the drink from her. 

“I’m fine. Annoyed, but fine.” He took a drink, before making a strange face. It looked like he smelled a skunk, but had also stepped in the skunk. She tried not to laugh.

“When did you get this?” He sounded serious, but he always did.

“Why?” 

“It’s drugged .” She rubbed her temples, sighed, and grabbed the drink back.

“I heal, stupid. It’s fine.” Victor gave her a strange look, before something dawned on him. He kinda looked like he was about to say something irate, but she didn't hear it. She swayed, and everything was black.


	8. Baths, Shirts, and Crackers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor has to keep his favorite teammate alive.

Victor managed to catch the woman before she hit the ground. He turned around, glaring hard at the man behind him.

—KILL—

He swung her legs up, catching them, and stormed out of the bar. People bolted out of the way. Olivia stirred, pressing her face into his jacket, before stilling. Her breathing started to hitch. After a barked order, John ran up beside him, put a hand on his shoulder, and teleported him into base, and fled. 

He banged through the door to her room. The smell of blood filled the room, and a half-cleaned throwing knife set laid on the bed. She had a big, green flannel laying on the made bed. 

She stirred again, pulling at the back of his jacket. She tried to get her legs under her, but stilled after a moment. He threw the knives aside, and laid her down. After a moment, he stalked around the room, finding a desk chair by a pile of paperwork. He pulled it over to the bedside, and sat down. 

—shouldn’t have left mate alone—

Her scent changed, before the smell of panic made the room spin. Olivia sluggishly pulled a handgun, rolled towards him, and attempted to aim at his head. Victor reached forward, pulled the gun out of her exhausted grip, and laid her hand back on the bed. Fear laced with confusion, she buried her face in her hands, trying to curl in a ball. Victor heard a weak whimper, almost like a scared puppy.

—need to calm mate down—

Suddenly, she stopped, and tried to sit up. He was right there, trying to help her. She tried to push his hands away, and his purr cut off into a growl. Wait—

“Wh, what? Who?” Olivia’s voice shook, and she took a wheezing gasp. He rubbed at her back, and she leaned back, letting his hand hold her up

“It’s just me, doll,” he purred, “Lay down. I’ll take care of ya.” She let him lay her on her back, and a drunken smile crossed her face. She grabbed at his arm, before sliding her hand down to his hand. He sat on the side of the bed, letting her rub her thumb against his claw. 

“Go to sleep. It’s alright.”

“Can’t. Gotta clean up.” Victor’s deep purr continued, but he stepped into her bathroom. The smell of vomit lingered in the room. 

—mate’s sick! that’s what's wrong. we can fix that. need to get her rest, and food, and warm, and safe—

He stepped over to the bathtub, and started running warm water. When it finally warmed up, he put the plug in the drain, and rummaged through a flowery case of bottles while it filled. Her mutation makes sure she doesn’t get hurt, so why does she have three bottles of laxatives? Doesn’t make any— He heard Olivia groan softly, shift on the bed, and still. When the tub filled, he turned the water off, and walked back into the bedroom

Olivia was pale, and panting. She tried to turn when she heard him walk in, but her eyes were glazed over. He gathered her up, and walked into the bathroom. Leaving her on the toilet, he started gently tugging her clothing off.

She was terrified. Her breathing was fitful, and she struggled to pull away, only to have her strength give out. He started purring again, intentionally this time, and let her lean on him.

—mate needs, no, deserves to be safe—

“Sorry for scaring ya, doll. I’m just tryin’ ta get ya cleaned up. Didn’t mean nothing.”

“Victor,” she whined. He kept purring, carefully pulling her dress off. She stood, using Victor’s arm as support as she stepped out of her heels. As she leaned into the tub, he helped her dunk her hair in the warm water, and grabbed the shampoo she picked up. The strong smell of fake fruit filled the room, and he started washing her hair out.

Olivia sighed, and leaned back into his hands. This impossible, cinnamon smell filled the room, but Victor just rinsed her hair out. As he ran a jasmine-scented conditioner through her hair, he let his claws pull through the tangles. Her whine made the cinnamon smell more heated. When she made grabby-hands at a black washcloth, he dropped it in the tub. Rinsing her hair out again, he let her rest in the warm water. She took the washcloth, and wiped her makeup off. Her hands shook, but she managed.

Victor started to go get her some clothes, before he heard her stomach growl, and an embarrassed noise came from the tub. 

—needs food to heal—

“I’ll be right back.” She nodded, laying back into the tub. As he tramped through the building, he saw Zero in the kitchen. A confused glance was shot his way, if he had anything on his mind but a mission. Ignoring the mercenary, he grabbed a jar of peanut butter, graham crackers, a package of sandwich cheese, a loaf of bread, and a knife. 

Locking the door behind him, he grabbed the shirt that had been laying on the bed, before changing his mind. Throwing it in the hamper by her desk, he slid his own shirt over his head, and grabbed a pair of underwear from her duffel.

When he got in the bathroom, she had drained the tub, and started running cold water from the shower head . She was curled up into the stream of ice old water, and her teeth were audibly chattering. Blue lips, and red skin, and her bra had been slung to the side. She startled, and tucked herself further into a ball when he walked in. Victor pulled her out of the water, and turned it off.

Grabbing a towel, they sat down on the tile. She started trying to hide under the towel.

“Olivia. Doll, lemme get ya warmed up. Why’d ya do that? Doesn’t make sense.” He tried to keep purring, hoping she would calm down. 

“Too hot. Victor, too hot. Nothin’ helps.” She tugged on him, until he turned her around, so her back was against his chest, and he started toweling her off. “Make it stop.”

—mate’s sick, needs food to heal. needs rest. fast. too small to be so sick. nothing on her to survive the sick—

“Got a fever, that’s all. Ya need just need sleep, and food.”

That was the wrong thing to say. The shaking girl in his arms started trying to push him off, and he grabbed her wrists. He started taking deep breaths, trying to calm her down.

“Not a fever. I heal.” He huffed, then grabbed his discarded shirt. 

“We’ll deal with this once you’ve eaten. Hands up.”

“Victor?” Her voice broke, and she went still. Her eyes widened, and her heart started pounding. 

—mate’s scared of us. no more orders, must not like the orders.—

“Whoa, whoa, Olivia. Doll, I just need ya to do it so I can get some clothes on ya. So I can get ya to sleep. Breath.” She did as asked, taking deep breaths. When he slid the shirt over her head, her face got caught on the collar. He reached up, tugged it down, and was face to face with the most unfairly gorgeous brown eyes. They were rich like chocolate, soft and sweet. He stared for a moment, awestruck. She tilted her head, before bringing her hand across his fuzzy cheek.

“Victor? What’s ‘rong?” 

“Gotta get ya fed.” He stood up, letting her wrap her legs weakly around his waist. Once she was tucked into bed, had an extra blanket, and was propped up, he started to get her some food.

Her eyes were wide with excitement when he pulled the jar of peanut butter up, before quickly frowning. He grabbed the crackers, and began making the simple snack. She ate one, then two, then three at his insistence. 

“Come on, doll. Ya need to eat. Can’t expect to shake this if ya don’t have nothin’ in your belly.” She groaned, before laying down. Those gorgeous brown eyes watched him, her face contorted with strain. 

—needs more food. later, let mate sleep. more food when more relaxed—

“Go on to bed.” She nodded, then laid on her side, facing the door. He walked over to the door, mind swirling of what the Bastard that did this was gonna die from.

“Victor? Stay?” She softly called, and he turned. She had her arm out, grabbing towards him. The blanket was pulled up under her chin, and he sucked in a breath.

“Until you’re asleep.” She nodded, smiling. He sat down on the bed at her feet. She closed her eyes, and relaxed. It was reckless. Who slept around a predator—

When Victor sensed she was in a deep sleep, he stood. He stared at the soft skin of her cheek, mesmerized. He left quickly, but not before doing something he knew better of. 

—so worth it—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A. Thank you so much everyone who’s read this lately. The views jumped 100 in a week, and I’m so proud. 
> 
> B. I would love to write some smut for this fic, but I don’t know how. If anyone could PM me a guide on how to do it, that would be great.
> 
> C. Please let me know what you think! :)


	9. Night Clubs, Red, and Yellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SO so sorry about that! Writers block had me in its grips. Let a gal know what you think!

After her blacking out, she had no memory of the night, only waking up in someone’s shirt, and her hair washed. The next time Olivia saw Victor was the mission. 

Find the mutant Azazel. A teleporter, a supposed devil, and a womanizer. He frequented the Long Night, a nightclub and bar that ran all sorts of illegal scum. The plan was for Victor, John, Zero, and herself to infiltrate the club as cage ring fighters, and herself as a patron. 

Then, she was supposed to seduce Azazel, and get him to leave the club. John would take him out, and they could go home. And it would've worked, if Victor hadn’t gone bat@(Y& feral in the middle of the damned thing.

She had done herself up to her Friday night best, with a short red dress, beige booties, and a perfect winged eyeliner. Sitting poise and pretty in the booth, she sipped a cosmopolitan, watching Zero try to get a hit on Victor. Azazel was a creep, she soon learned. He stood on the edges of the bar, but stared at her like prey.

That was probably his mistake, in hindsight.

Olivia gave him the classic, ‘come here’ gesture between fights, and he teleported to her side.

“Now, what’s a little girl like you doing out here, all alone?” His tone had a patronizing note, and she was glad she had taken scent suppressors, or the other feral would know of her nausea. 

“Well…” mimicking a southern drawl, purring, “I wanted ta see somethin’ excitin’, an’ ah heard that this’s tha place ta be. Strong fellas an’ stronger drinks.” The red tail behind Azazel whipped back and forth, and he ran a hand up her dress, leaving cold chills behind. 

“And how’s that going so far?”

“Ah haven’t found somethin’ as strong as ah was hopin’, so ah fi’ured tha cage was mah next stop.”

“How about we go out back, and I’ll show you the real show.” He ended this little spew with a sharp whip of his tail. Olivia felt like taking a hundred showers to get rid of the feel of his hands on her legs, but the mission was almost done.

“Aww, ya’d do that for me?” 

A puff of smoke, and the smell of sulfur, and she was outside of a truck. She turned, glancing at it curiously. The alley was planned, but not this dim. All the lights were out. Bradley had promised her that the lights would be on, so she wouldn’t get impaled.

“What’s that?” She asked, gesturing at the truck.

“That, w(&^@, is for you! Isn't that a nice surprise?” 

Something was around her neck. That was all she knew, all she could sense. It felt like something was wrapped around her, so her senses were useless. Whatever was around her neck buzzed, and there was some sound. She clawed across her neck and throat, thrashing to get the collar off. The sound came to an apex, and stopped. Something warm splattered onto her. It got in her mouth, and tasted like iron. 

Something wrapped around her, and she thrashed. Then, sharp nails reached under the collar, and pulled. When Olivia turned, intending to thank her rescuer, yellow eyes with dark slits, and a black sclera met hers.

She should be scared. She truly, honestly, really should be pissed herself. She knew this, but… why? Whatever caused the change didn’t seem to be angry at her. Her newly riled instincts were torn between running, and getting real cozy to the blood covered feral.

She looked back at where the truck and Azazel had been, only to see a crushed truck bed, and Azazel laying on his back in the wreckage, the red face paler, and leaned back at an unnatural angle. Throat slit.

“Um… Victor… weren’t we supposed to bring him to the boss,” she wondered out loud. She heard cloth rustling behind her, then Victor’s massive, warm, black coat was wrapped around her.

“Baylor! Are you alright?” Stryker yelled over Victor’s comm system. Olivia grabbed the device, and answered.

“Alive. Little shaken up. Mishap. Guy knew we were coming.” 

“We’ll get medical eval. at base. Where’s he?” 

“Come on back.” The line went dead, before a low sound rang through her ears. She turned, only to see Victor’s stern face. Long fangs. He seemed bigger than normal, somehow.

“Um, Victor, we gotta get back.” He growled, glancing to the side. Then, sulfur filled the air. John appeared in the cloud, only for Victor to leap at him. 

John teleported behind her, cowering down. He turned, before stepping toward her. Suddenly, a blue plume hit his neck. Zero looked down at the mess, and sighed.

“This is gonna be a long night.”


	10. Apples, Crackers, and Blush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will have adult content. Please comment what should happen after. I’m kinda at a loss as far as plot goes.

The human took more time to wake up than the animal. The animal knew that their mate wasn’t there. She shouldn’t be there. A small, concrete cell with a chain linked padlock was no place for a sick little mate. 

A sleeping bag was laid out on one corner of the room, and a toilet on the other. His hands were bound to the wall, and feet linked together. Someone had removed his clothes, except boxers, and wiped blood off of him. A thick, cloth muzzle surrounded his nose and mouth, and the overly sweet smell of fake honey clouded his nose.

He pulled at the cuffs on his hands, finding no give. His deep snarl filled the room. The human said he should relax, and give him back control. The human was stupid, so he refused. The door opened. Their mate walked in, with a dim lantern, a long chain, and a worn book. She closed the door behind her, and set the lantern down.

“I’m going to assume that Victor isn’t in charge right now, is he?”

He shook his head ‘no’.

“Well, here’s how this is gonna go. I’m going to try and find a way to fix this in the field guide. You’re gonna get to have your hands free, as long as you don’t lunge at me. Deal?”

He nodded. He would never so much as nick their mate with his claws. She knew that. Silly little mate. She stood to his side, releasing the cuffs, then jumping out of the way. He sat still, hands in his lap, and she sat to the right of the door. 

They sat like that for a time, before she spoke.

“The book says that you have some control of when Victor comes back…. right?” He shrugged, and she continued. “So… just… let him go, and we can both go our separate ways.” 

He snarled at the thought, muzzled, shook his head no, and she huffed. She didn’t respond much, until she walked next to him, and sat down. He glanced at her, and she rolled her eyes. 

“I’m cold, ok? Chill.” He nodded, and ran his fingers through her hair, enjoying the feel of the thin strands. Her hair was a little damp, but clean. The muzzle stayed. He could deal with that. She was close, he could sit. Easy. His claws carefully rubbed against her scalp

A machine kicked in a moment later, a cooling unit. Their mate flinched at the sound, and curled under his arm. He pulled her into his lap, and laid his head on hers. He purred, and she glanced at his face. 

“Ya know, normally you're supposed to take me on a date before I let ya do that.” He purred louder, and she shook her head, in amusement. 

The door in front of them opened slowly, and a short, bald man walked in. The human had answered to him, but the startled jump he felt in his lap told him what he needed to know.

“Baylor! You are NOT allowed in this cell.” He growled, and she lightly rubbed his cheek, petting the hair there. He stopped growling, and tucked his nose in her neck. 

“That tickles!” She mumbled, before looking at the man. “I’m the only one that he’s gonna allow in. So, I kinda have to stay.” 

“Well, you need to do your reports. You can come back with food later.” 

“Fine.” She went to stand, and he pulled her back down. She stood again, but he held tight. “You gotta let me go. I’m gonna get food, ok?” He nodded, and she stood.

“Now, I have a real important job for you, ok?” He nodded. “You need to keep an eye on my book.” He glanced at the red cover on his left, and nodded. She began to open the door, then a strange look crossed her face.

“How about this? If you can say anything by the time I get back, I’ll leave the muzzle off.” And with that, the door closed.

When she came back, she brought a tray. Sitting down in front of him, she opened it. Some simple foods, crackers, dried meats, and an apple. She slid it over, and grabbed her book. The human was wide awake now, but not strong enough to take control back. 

She slid over, and reached behind his head. Her fingers gently brushed over his neck, before the muzzle popped off. The sickly sweet smell of honey disappeared, and he took a deep breath. Her scent was still weak, sick. He reached down, grabbing the apple, before tossing it to her. She caught it, and threw it back. 

“It’s for you.” She explained, before returning to her book. He tossed it to her again, and she returned it. 

“‘Livia.” He demanded, watching her head snap up. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” She beamed. He lightly tugged her arm, and she followed. Once she was situated in his lap, he pulled the food tray towards them. He held the apple to her mouth, and she turned away. 

“‘Livia.” 

“I've already ate, Victor. Go ahead.” He could smell the lie, but decided to change tactics. Grabbing the cracker, he pressed it to her lips. When she reluctantly took it, he nipped behind her ear. She blushed, light pink sweeping across her face. He held a piece of meat, and she turned away.

“Mr. Creed, the food is for you. I’ve already ate. I’m full.” She tried to stand up, but he didn’t let go. He pressed the meat against her mouth, and she took it. A gentle nip at her collarbone, and she flushed again.

“Really, Mr. Creed, you need to eat.” She said, tone confident, before grabbing the apple, and pressing it to his mouth. He took a bite, purring. She thumbed some juice away from his mouth, and he nipped her finger, just to see her blush. He picked up the meat, offering it to her again. She looked up at him, with a hurt look on her face. 

“No. It’s for you. See?” She said, as she pressed the apple into his hand. He growled softly, pressing the apple to her mouth. A putrid mix filled the room, her warm smell hidden behind the scent of embarrassment, a deep musk of panic, and the cinnamon of arousal. 

The human perked up, thrashing behind his eyes. He closed his eyes, shoving the human back. A warm hand pressed to his cheek, and little fleeting touches against his neck brought him back. He turned his head, kissing Olivia’s palm. She rubbed his forehead, and pressed against his pulse.

“Are you in pain? God, this is why you should have eaten!” She was muttering, pressing her thin fingers against anything on his she could reach. Her palm brushed his thigh, and he went limp for her. She continued her exploration, and the human started arguing. He knew that their little mate was sick, and they needed to be gentle. ‘Victor’, the human, argued that they didn’t need her. That she was a liability. Jailbait. She shifted against his crotch, and the human forced a growl out.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you. I..”

“No.” She jerked back, and he grabbed her shirt. She was still panicking, but she stilled

“I gotta go now, ok? I’ll be back in a minute.” She explained, shoving the tray towards him. Without the muzzle, he could smell shame, a little bit of worry, and something else. She closed the door, latch clicking.


	11. Pain

Olivia really should have been paying more attention when she stepped out of the door. Zero jabbed a needle into her neck, slammed her against the door. She sluggishly tried to get a hold of his neck, but her arms were cuffed together. Something warm and sticky was dumped on her on her stomach. The door behind her opened, and she could hear a low snarl. Hands pulled her into the cell.

She couldn’t get her hands up fast enough. The door slammed, and she tried to jerk away. She was picked up, the world spinning. A tan shape held her gently, before laying her down on a deep green rectangle. The plastic feel was soft against her fingers. 

Olivia was suddenly exhausted. She closed her eyes, enjoying the smooth feeling under her. Something rumbled, and her shoes were slid off. The green sleeping bag was pulled around her face, and the tan figure laid down next to her, blocking her view of the door. The rumbling continued. She tried to sit up, and the world spun. Her stomach churned, an acid taste in her mouth.

“Safe, ‘Livia. Safe.” Gentle fingers brushed hair out of her face, over her lips, and she slept.

*********6 Hours Later*********

Olivia woke slowly. Her neck was still sore, ached, and she felt exhausted. Opening her eyes, the grey wall of Victor’s cell greeted her. She scrambled to her feet, enhanced senses in a sluggish attempt at working. She spun wildly, trying to find the feral man. The man in question grabbed her shoulders, and eased her into the corner.

He pulled at her dirty shirt. Olivia made no move to remove it. Victor shredded the cloth. 

“No.” To her surprise, he stopped. He glanced at her face, then the door, then to a corner across the room, then back to her. He pressed her into the corner, and pulled the cloth out of her grasp.

“Victor, you can’t.” The man growled, pressing a hand over her mouth. He pulled down her sweatpants. She bit down on his hand. He made no move to remove it. She couldn’t breathe, and pain shot through her abdomen. 

“X-17, release the girl.” A speaker buzzed. Her vision buzzed. Her head buzzed. Then, they all cut to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking this out! I’ll try to have the next chapter up by next Wednesday. Please comment any way I could improve this work, or what ya like about it. Love y’all, and see ya next week!


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